tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29269833999968374782018-03-20T05:22:46.620+10:00Pinky PoinkerJoin Pinky as she dishes out humourous anecdotes and advice on life, love, kids, pets and everything else in between.Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comBlogger764125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-28029860839499073322018-03-18T20:34:00.000+10:002018-03-18T20:34:02.375+10:00Autumn is coming... no wait... it's here!“Can you smell that?” asked Scotto this morning, as he inhaled deeply and stretched out in bed like a languorous Tom cat. “Do you mean the chicken poo?” I replied blinking vacuously. “No,” he arose from bed and opened the curtains. “Did you fart under the sheets again?” I eyed him suspiciously. “No, not recently,” he answered, flopping back on the bed and making me spill my coffee. “It’s not the Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-16201493115298251562018-03-17T17:33:00.000+10:002018-03-17T17:33:49.298+10:00Ten Reasons Why Owning a Hare is Not Boring!
Night Vision Camera on Hare
1. Even though they are nocturnal creatures, you can watch them sleeping for hours on end. 2. You can’t teach hares cute tricks because they are wild animals, but when you give them food they will creep down from their hutch and eat it long after you’ve gone to bed. 3. They like to be patted but you have to hold them very firmly or they will push Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-37948823546373529222018-03-06T09:52:00.000+10:002018-03-06T20:37:57.969+10:00I'll Make You an Offer!
Source
For the last two Tuesdays, I’ve stayed at home because flood waters prevented me getting to school. “You’re making it rain aren’t you, Pinky!” my deputy principal accused on the phone. “It’s because you hate taking the kids to swimming lessons on Tuesday!” Whilst it’s true I hate swimming lessons, I haven’t managed to control the weather yet. I say ‘yet’, because one day I might work Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-8035973967953624982018-03-03T14:54:00.003+10:002018-03-03T14:54:54.974+10:00Putting the Fox Amongst the Chickens
CCTV close up of criminal ChihuahuaWanted in three states.
“Jon Snow is attacking the Chihuahua!” I commented to Scotto last night, sipping casually on my Chardonnay and observing the heady drama unfolding below the lofty heights of our deck. Jon Snow is our tiny bantam hen and while she is basically the same size as the Chihuahua, she suffers from a dearth of carnivorous teeth, thus placing Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-51934324045628325182018-02-25T21:05:00.000+10:002018-02-25T21:05:38.842+10:00The Woodland Creature Arrives
Today marks the two year anniversary of our move to the mountain. All of our original animals (the four dogs and the sixteen year old cat), are thriving and now we’ve added eleven eccentric chickens and as of today, a baby hare, into the mix. This is why I’ll never be a millionhare. I spend all my hard-earned money on my pets. My five children (the hare apparents) were very disappointed to hear Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-14293914495507728132018-02-24T16:19:00.000+10:002018-02-24T16:19:02.092+10:00I'm Getting a Cryptid!
Podcasts are my new thing to listen to during my hour long commute every day. I’ve been listening to rubbish like “Things The Government Doesn’t Want You to Know” and “Reptilians Who Live Among Us” and “Aliens and Cryptids: the Complete Guide”. What? You think I’m an idiot? They’re very entertaining and quite educational, I'll have you know. In fact, I’m learning things… like... what a cryptid Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-60781687772612380492018-02-17T15:37:00.002+10:002018-02-17T15:37:50.250+10:00The Easter Bunny is Dead
Fiver
I’m feeling sad because my baby hare just died. We only found her half an hour ago but in that time I’d already named the precious poppet and decided on where she would sleep at night. I’d envisioned her loping around after me whilst I cooked in the kitchen; my precious bunny sitting on my lap on the couch each evening, and the cute, baby hare, frolicking around with my Chihuahua and FoxPinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-22475343437052365242018-02-10T16:31:00.002+10:002018-02-10T17:36:03.007+10:00Why Parent Information Nights can be Hard...
Parent Information Night interfered with my customary and coveted *‘Chicken Time’ last week, as I found myself mandated to stay at work until about 8 pm on Tuesday evening. I was a bit cheesed off. I really love Chicken Time. It’s my favourite part of the day.*Chicken time is an early evening, leisure time activity where I sit with Scotto and the chickens in the backyard and drink wine. It Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-33380040078256636632018-02-03T17:16:00.000+10:002018-02-03T17:16:21.437+10:00A Series of Really Fudging Unfortunate Events: The Saga of Lemony Snickets
On the weekend, I drove my old car, Golden Boy, up to the IGA.
I've been putting off selling him because I hate my new car so much.My trustworthy, darling little Golden Boy. My ‘never let me down a day in his life’, Golden Boy.I was still mightily pissed off with my new car, Lemony Snickets and couldn’t bear the thought of driving the bitch of a thing any more than I had to.However, when I Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-9926613525794636562018-01-26T08:57:00.000+10:002018-01-26T09:00:58.280+10:00The Love Affair is Over
“What name do you think I should give my new car?” was my stupidly naïve and ignorant question at the end of my last post. “I’m in love with my new car!” I joyously posted on Facebook.Oh, how simpleminded and foolish I was back in those halcyon days. Thank you all for your naming suggestions but I’ve finally thought of a new name for it.“ Lemony Snickets”… with the emphasis on LEMON. It’s a Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-68645715162082205692018-01-14T16:20:00.001+10:002018-01-14T16:20:14.427+10:00Three Excellent Things I Bought!
I’m back to work on Wednesday and there’s one particular thing I’m really dreading. Six weeks of holiday has enabled my digestive system to develop into a lovely, rhythmic routine where at 8 o’clock sharp, every single day, I poop.I will be arriving at work at exactly 8 am every day and this is not a happy prospect because we only have two toilets at work and people use them a lot and I don’t Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-79390493907549673032018-01-06T14:40:00.000+10:002018-01-06T14:40:23.912+10:00How is your Girl Power?
Still needs restaining...
I have excellent neighbours in my street. We invited them all over on New Year’s Day to celebrate and christen the new deck (see above).
“What games have you been playing on your computer, mate?” Burt, who lives across the road, asked Scotto. “The noises and explosions are wild. I can hear them clear as day from my place.”I sat up rigidly, shame-faced and Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-5771998881607129712018-01-01T20:58:00.000+10:002018-01-01T22:08:27.359+10:00What was your Favourite Chrissy present?
I have a smear test scheduled for tomorrow.If there’s one thing I hate almost as much as mammograms, it’s smear tests.When I made the appointment it was still December 2017 but apparently it’s now frickin January 2018.Shit. It seemed like so far away when I made the appointment on December 22, 2017.And now it appears, if you have a smear test and you don’t have a certain venereal disease like Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-68802774414561252542017-12-28T22:06:00.000+10:002017-12-28T22:15:28.094+10:00Did You Have a Good Christmas?
Apart from the fact that my German Shepherd almost bit my brother-in law’s face off and left two distinct fang marks in his forehead and chin with blood streaming everywhere and apart from the fact that most of us were very pissed and there was a bit of a skirmish on the front lawn on the next door neighbour’s driveway... it was a pretty good Christmas.Don’t ask.We had fun. In a sense.We had soPinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-32946412221615141092017-12-16T14:54:00.001+10:002017-12-16T14:54:54.430+10:00When Your World is Literally About to Cave In.
Looks much worse than it appears in photo!
Scotto and I spent the past few days moving our couch closer and closer towards the telly because we were terrified the ceiling was going to collapse on top of us whenever the sub woofer kicked in.Last week, while we were out cavorting and lunching, a cataclysmic hail storm thrust itself upon our mountain.
Our backyard
I was worried about thePinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-47364311628815334062017-12-08T21:11:00.000+10:002017-12-08T21:11:00.881+10:00My Husband Loves Screwing Around
Sometime this year, we ousted our above ground pool because we never used it as it only gets hot enough to swim one/two days a year up here in the Gold Coast Highlands and the pool filter was escalating the fees incurred from our electricity bill (fancy way of saying our electricity bill was too fucking high).The elderly lady who lives in the house below us probably wasn’t that impressed with Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-28019496165063691582017-12-05T20:58:00.000+10:002017-12-05T20:58:28.267+10:00When Your Inheritance is at Stake
Now that I’m on holidays I have some free time to visit my parents who live down the road.I called in to their place yesterday at morning tea time in anticipation of a happy reunion and some of Dad’s home cooking.I knocked plaintively at the door because the curtains were drawn and there were funeral dirges playing on the stereo; the air was sombre.Mum greeted me at the door with a deep, tragicPinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-56022989552485496232017-11-30T17:02:00.000+10:002017-11-30T17:02:16.941+10:00Why I Haven't Been Blogging
Tuna the Dog
Tomorrow is the last day of school. But guess who has a job again at the same beautiful, little country school next year?I KNOOOOOOW! I’m ecstatic.We had our staff Christmas party last Saturday and it was held up on my mountain so two of my teacher buddies had a sleep over and … well… let’s just say we bonded over eighties music and about eighteen bottles of wine.On Tuesday Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-83510208372844770732017-11-18T16:19:00.000+10:002017-11-18T16:19:36.756+10:00Damaged Goods
It was last Sunday morning when I sashayed into the vacuum cleaner selling place bearing a strong resolve NOT to be rude to the salesman.
I usually find vacuum salesman to be of a highly irritating disposition and considering the fact I was about to purchase one of the most troublesome of household appliances, I knew in my heart that it would take all my strength to keep a civil tongue inPinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-31099390660195159002017-11-12T09:28:00.000+10:002017-11-12T09:28:26.584+10:00Pinky Goes Outlander Style
Dad on his steed
Scotto and I like to do something novel on weekends, apart from drinking, so lately we’ve been going horse riding. This silly idea was entirely inspired by watching ‘War Horse’ one night (when we were drinking) and I lavishly pronounced that we should go and ride horses at once.“That horse is so lovely.” I exclaimed to Scotto whilst observing the handsome and gallant War HorsePinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-62841273891785505952017-10-29T14:10:00.001+10:002017-10-29T14:10:37.965+10:00Who Knocked Over the Water Bowl Again?
Last Sunday, Scotto and I strolled through the aisles of the IGA in a leisurely fashion when I abruptly stopped in front of a stand holding a stuffed, rainbow coloured, unicorn.“I would buy this for Pablo the Chihuahua, however I know the little b#stard would rip it to pieces and then I’d have to pick up fluff for the next week,” I sighed, picturing in my mind the unfortunate “stuffed reindeer”Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-29853270475736741002017-10-22T21:01:00.002+10:002017-10-22T21:01:16.109+10:00Why Jumping Castles should be Banned from Existence
An event took place at school yesterday and I spent my Saturday afternoon and evening on crowd control duty in a rather small room, with 200 buoyant children who were in more than avid attendance.
After it all finished, I endured a long drive, swerving around indiscriminate marsupials, who appeared to be on a suicidal mission, in the dark and ominous dampness. I recalled Wolf Creek and Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-90625239096690288002017-10-15T09:09:00.000+10:002017-10-15T09:09:07.955+10:00The Mulberries
My father gave me a large bowl of home grown mulberries last week and I took a handful to school as a snack. I was thrilled as I haven’t eaten mulberries since I was ten years of age and I love to receive free, organic produce.I nibbled on them as I strolled around the playground whilst on duty.“Mrs Poinker, your teeth are pink,” a well-meaning little grade one student, hanging upside down on Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-80771989605121575422017-10-08T20:50:00.000+10:002017-10-08T20:50:59.083+10:00Happy Birthday Mother!
It’s my mother’s birthday on Tuesday so Scotto and I called in before taking her and Dad out for lunch today.“Here’s your present,” I announced, handing over a card/voucher with an accompanying scented candle.“Oh I can’t use scented candles,” she replied. “They aggravate my sinuses, but I’ll put this in the cupboard and you can have the one you gave me for last Christmas back. It’s in the same Pinky Poinkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02113333763119897898noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2926983399996837478.post-44943259491437248262017-10-02T17:03:00.002+10:002017-10-02T19:31:43.059+10:00I Don't Wanna Be a Pirate!
I finally bit the bullet and signed up to Ancestry DNA historical records and wow… just wow.I traced all my dad’s great grandfathers back to the 1500s and came to a dead end at Nicholas De Venoix, who was born in Normandy, France, so that explains my penchant for cheese and wine and stripey t-shirts.
Scotto has declared since learning of this marital affiliation,
"I shall be taunting peoplePinky Poinkerhttps://plus.google.com/106690971805190826774noreply@blogger.com